Feet of Flames
by lindsey and marie enterprises
Summary: Okay, so I have been obsessed with Lord of the Dance for forever. After watching it in 3D, I decided to write a fanfiction about it. Enjoy! R&R! Rated T for slight sexual implications. By Lindsey and Marie
1. Cry of the Celts

_**Author's Note: Okay, so yesterday, I went and saw Lord of the Dance 3D. It was amazing, and I was so entranced by the story that I thought, "Oh my gosh, I HAVE to write a fanfic for this. It's a little rough, so bear with me. Reviews will be read, flames will be ignored.**_

**Feet of Flames**

**Chapter 1: Cry of the Celts**

**Saoirse lay on the ground in the camp. Her friends, the Lady Dancers, were arranged in a semicircle with her as the peak. She sighed as she thought, **_**If this is another of John's pranks, I am going to murder him!**_** John had told them that Ceol, otherwise known as the Lord of the Dance, wanted to show them a special celebration dance. She and the others had agreed, but she was beginning to question the wisdom of such a decision.**

**Just then, she saw a small, golden figure step into the center of the half-circle. Her skin seemed to be covered in glitter, and her simple outfit was adorned with golden jewels. Her short, dark hair was sticking out at odd angles, but it in no way looked wild. As she knelt and pulled out a small, sparkling flute with a green mouthpiece, Saoirse suddenly recognized her.**

"**Síochána, what is going on?" she whispered. In response, the Little Spirit simply turned, winked, and began to play a soft melody on her flute. Instantly, all the Lady Dancers were awake, but they didn't dare move. All of them were entranced by the lilting song that emanated from the tiny instrument.**

**As soon as Síochána stopped playing, she summoned more music from the forest around her by standing and sprinkling her magical dust on the ground. As the haunting music filled the air, she let more of the dust fall onto the dancers themselves. Then, returning to the center of the semicircle, she motioned for the ladies to rise.**

**As one, they stood and took a prep stance, each putting her right arm into the center toward Síochána. She flitted around them, passing her hand over theirs. As soon as she touched the last girl, they all twirled and began a dance that none of them had ever performed, yet instinctively knew. Almost against their will, they spun and leapt and twisted, not knowing where the dance ended and they began.**

**At some unseen and unheard signal, all but three of the Lady Dancers skipped out of the clearing into the trees, leaving only Saoirse and two others. They performed to an unseen audience, when suddenly, a tribal drumbeat began.**

**They immediately knew that this was their cue that their time was almost up. Quickly, they wrapped up their performance and left just as a rhythm of congas sounded. As she stopped in the trees to put on her hard shoes, she looked back and saw . . . Ceol. He had just leapt out of the trees and was dancing all around the clearing.**

**His Dance obviously contained some transformation magic, because as soon as he jumped out, the grass changed into a wooden dance floor. His steps were echoing all around the forest. Saoirse knew that he had not been named Lord of the Dance for naught.**

**As she got into position, she felt a warm presence behind her. Turning, she saw John, Ceol's best friend, in line directly behind her. Suddenly, he chuckled at something Ceol was doing. She turned back and had to suppress the laughter threatening to burst forth. Saoirse knew Ceol liked to show off when he was dancing, but a Hercules display? He was being utterly ridiculous. To her surprise, she found she liked it, and everything about him.**

**Just then, he dropped to one knee, and Saoirse and the others immediately danced out to join him, forming a dancing circle around him. As soon as they came out, banners fell from the trees, no doubt Síochána's doing. Each bore the different symbols of Eire, the centerpiece being the dancing unicorn.**

_**Ceol**_**, she thought, directing her thoughts toward him, **_**you've really outdone yourself this time.**_** At this, he smiled broadly, but Saoirse also saw a tinge of red touch his cheeks. Was he blushing, or was he merely flushed by the vigorous dancing? Saoirse didn't have time to ponder the question, because she saw that all the Dancers were forming a line across the front of the dance floor, Ceol at the front of them.**

**He performed a strutting, bouncing walk, and then danced back to them just as the music ended. As the dancers all skipped out of the clearing, the Spirit sprinkled her dust, changing the wood back to grass. Saoirse turned, hoping to speak to the dancing lord, but in a flash of fire, he was gone.**

**She felt her heart sink to her feet. No amount of dancing could cure the sadness she felt in her heart. She began to hope for things she had never hoped before: to dance by **_**his**_** side, to see those beautiful, blue eyes filled with love for **_**her**_**, to feel his lips warm against hers.**

**Shaking her head, she told herself sternly, **_**Really, Saoirse. You should know better. You, become the Lady of the Dance? You have more chance of meeting Erin the Goddess in the flesh!**_


	2. Celtic Dream

_**Author's Note: I'm back with Chapter 2! I am a little sad that no one has reviewed yet, but oh, well. Maybe more chapters will attract more attention. Please review. By the way, Ceol is the Gaelic word for music. I liked it because it describes his character perfectly, and it sounds manly at the same time! S**__**í**__**och**__**á**__**na is also the Gaelic word for peace. I thought it a fitting name for the little Spirit.**_

**Celtic Dream**

**Saoirse sighed as she walked farther into the trees. She had been only **_**feet**_** away from Ceol, and she hadn't even spoken a single word to him. On top of that, word was spreading that Don Dorcha was gathering power in the West. Of course, no one was worried. Rumors spread like wildfire in the local pub, but still. They caused a bit of unease in the village.**

**Very soon, she came upon her favorite glade in the middle of the forest. She often came here when she was feeling a little down. However, Saoirse was shocked when she saw a woman in the clearing. She wasn't moving an inch, and her dark hair spilled in traditional curls down her back, contrasting sharply with her hot pink dancing gown.**

**Just then, S****í****och****á****na appeared behind the girl. To Saoirse's surprise, she began winding an invisible gear in the girl's back. The little Spirit then watched, fascinated, as the girl began to move in a most . . . doll-like fashion.**

**Saoirse was tempted to call out, but then other Lady Dancers skipped into the clearing, bringing with them a light, haunting tune. Immediately, Saoirse stood stock-still. She dimly registered that her blue dress had mysteriously turned golden in color. As soon as the girls formed a line with their arms forming a tunnel, she twirled out to join them. They went and stood in the trees, watching her dance.**

**She was uncertain as to which kind of magic was contained in her Dance, but she enjoyed the feel of it. Never had she felt so vibrant and alive. Her worries and cares were lifted from her. Saoirse kicked and twirled and leapt, looking for all the world like a carefree schoolgirl. No longer did she feel like a victim of unrequited love. This dance gave her a brief respite from all her worldly troubles. When she came out and joined the Lady Dancers one last time, she regretted that the Dance should end.**

**At the end of the Dance, she caught sight of the doll-girl from before. Saoirse smiled politely at the girl she now knew to be human, if slightly different. The doll smiled back at her, then, without warning, she morphed. Her hair shortened and turned blonde, and her face became more angled.**

**When the change was complete, Saoirse felt as if she was looking into a mirror. Then, with a shimmer, the girl, and the others, disappeared. Saoirse felt a tingling sensation on her body. She looked down and saw her dress change from gold back to dark blue.**

_**I'm the doll, aren't I?**_** she asked herself. Just as quickly, she answered, **_**Yes, I must be the doll. I am letting my surroundings dictate my actions. No more! I will be fearless and unmovable. I will be influenced by myself alone. Ceol, wait for me!**_

**With that, she ran off into the woods toward the village, where Ceol would undoubtedly be. Little did she know that the rumors about Dorcha were not just rumors.**


	3. Warriors

_**Author's Note: I'm sorry I haven't updated in a bit. I was a little unsure how to write this scene, but I believe I have finally uncovered how to do it. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Dance (though I wish I did).**_

**Feet of Flames**

**Warriors**

**Farther north, a lone figure strode into a clearing. He was dressed in full battle garb. His clothes were royal purple with silver accents. The shoulder guards were plated with silver, as was the dark symbol on his chest. A mask hid the top half of his face, along with his hair. The mask was silver, but it was shaped to resemble an evil creature's skull. Gauntlets armored his forearms, and he walked confidently along with his master, Laochra. His name was Don Dorcha, the Dark Lord.**

"**Your skills are growing, my student," Laochra praised. Dorcha smirked by way of response.**

"**Of course, Master. My magic rivals that of the Lord of the Dance himself. Soon, I will have enough power to overthrow him," he chuckled.**

**Laochra glared and reprimanded, "I know that is what I have trained you for, but do not underestimate him. Remember, Ceol was not crowned Lord of the Dance."**

**Rolling his eyes, Dorcha replied, "Yes, my master. Now, if you will assist me, I must summon the troops to drill them." Nodding, Laochra rosined up his bow and began the dark song dubbed as "Warriors".**

**Dorcha's clearing immediately changed from grass to stone as he began the special dance to call his soldiers. His feet whirled all over the place in a complicated dance maneuver. Dorcha lowered his arms and raised them, beckoning to his troops to file into the glade.**

**They filed into three straight lines and began their Warriors drill. Dorcha was the perfect example of a general. He gave orders and directed them with perfect precision. They followed his every command instantaneously and without question.**

**At the end of the drill, Dorcha raised his arms, signaling Laochra to increase the tempo. Each time they completed their maneuvers, Dorcha signaled for the music to go faster until sparks flew from their feet on the stone.**

**When the Dance was completed, the Dark Lord marched out of the clearing with his men. The last man, however, felt someone roughly kick him from behind. Whirling, he was shocked to discover Síochána standing behind him. Snarling, he chased her out of the clearing before running to rejoin his column.**

"**Excellent work, men. Dismissed!" Dorcha called. He was about to return to his dwelling when he caught sight of a red glimmer in the trees. Curious as to what it was, he followed the sparkle to another, much smaller glade. What he saw made his jaw drop with awe.**


	4. Gypsy

_**Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to update! Anyway, I am so glad this story finally got a review. For a while there, I was worried that no one was reading it. Anyway, to answer the question posed by my single reviewer *cough* please send more *cough* this is what Lord of the Dance would be like if you combined it with Feet of Flames and turned it into a book. Enjoy! I do not own Lord of the Dance or Feet of Flames. I only own the names for previously unknown or unnamed characters.**_

**Feet of Flames**

**Gypsy**

**Dorcha dimly recognized the clearing as what was known as Taistealaí's Glade or the Traveler's Glade. However, he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, or the fact that he had removed his mask and his face was fully exposed. He was focused on the young woman who had flitted into the clearing.**

**Her dress was blood-red and adorned with rubies. Her dark, wavy hair cascaded in a wild mane around her face. The dress had an extremely low neckline, which Dorcha found very pleasing. It was also shorter than the average dancing dress, exposing more of her long tight-covered legs. Music began to filter out of the trees, a hypnotizing exotic melody.**

**The gypsy, for that was what she appeared to be, began to swing her hips to the music. Suddenly, as a strange flute tune started up, she leapt into the air and danced, her hair flying about in all directions as she bobbed her head to the music.**

_**Never have I witnessed such a beautiful, feisty creature,**_** Dorcha thought, rather possessively. **_**She must be mine. I will have her!**_** He almost stepped out into the glade, but he restrained himself. He wanted desperately to speak to her, but he also didn't want to disrupt her dance. She was beautiful, stunning, and . . . seductive.**

**Yes, that was the word he had been looking for. She was an extremely seductive woman. Her very movements were flirtatiously intended. She seemed to be daring any man nearby to approach her, and any woman to try to compete with her. Dorcha also felt a strange tugging sensation in his heart, as though it would leap out of his chest to get to this strange woman.**

_**What is this strange feeling that has come over me?**_** he thought wonderingly. **_**Could this be what they call love? Is it possible that someone like me could ever find romance? Well, the proof is dancing in front of me.**_

**The red-clad gypsy woman continued her seductive dance, all the while holding Dorcha in place with the haunting music. Even if Dorcha had wanted to move, he couldn't. The song was specifically designed to keep any and all men away from her . . . as long as she wanted it.**

**She knew that Dorcha was watching her. This Dance alerted her to the presence of any unknown male. She sensed that he was a very powerful man, one she would not like to cross.**

**However, she also sensed that he desired her, no, that he maybe even . . . loved her. She almost stumbled in her Dance. Desire was not unknown to her, but love? No one, not even her parents, had ever loved her before. Usually she held on to a man long enough to get him in bed, and then she left. This one, however, she might consider keeping.**

**As soon as her Dance was done, she ended in a crouching position, looked right at Dorcha, and winked. He almost passed out in the bushes, he was so startled. He had thought for certain she didn't know he was there.**

**As she skipped out of the clearing, she called out to him, "In case you're wondering, my name is Morrighan." With that, she was gone, leaving a love struck Dorcha behind her.**


	5. Dueling Violins

_**Author's Note: I'm back! Who missed me? Anyway, this is Dueling Violins, a song performed by two violinists in the show. I have given them names and, for fun, made them Ceol's sisters! My friend (whose name shall not be revealed) is the one who wrote this chapter. I only edited it to make it worthy of the site. Enjoy! I do not own Lord of the Dance or Feet of Flames. I only own the names for previously unknown or unnamed characters.**_

**Feet of Flames**

**Dueling Violins**

**"Hey, Ceol." John called to the great dancer. He turned around.**

**"Yes?" he asked, facing his friend.**

**"Are you coming to the Dancing Fire tonight? I heard your sisters were going to perform." Ceol smiled. His sisters, Veidhlin and Fidil,  
were renowned everywhere for their violins, both their talent and  
their violins' unique colors.**

**"Well, I'm coming now!" John grinned as he led the way for Ceol to  
the area's musical hot spot.**

**They arrived just in time for the masters of the house to 'dim the  
lights', which really was just blowing out a few lamps. Fidil, with  
her black pants and flowing back top, put some extra rosin on her  
green bow, then stepped to the stage, playing her first part on her  
green violin with sweet perfection. Veidhlin, with a black dress that  
came just to her knees, and blue violin, stepped up on the other side  
of the stage, harmonizing with her sister. **

**Then, just as the audience thought it was over, the girls faced each other, smiles spreading on  
their faces.**

_**Here we go, **_**Ceol thought to himself. Fidil started again, slowly,  
then picked up speed. Veidhlin joined back in, not slowing down as  
the music took off as the girls came together in the center of the  
stage.**

**As they came to a halt, the two girl's feet began to stomp as  
they kept time. Soon, the audience started to clap, Ceol being the  
instigator of that move. Then the girls walked to the front of the  
stage, not missing a beat as they sawed away at their violins, facing  
the crowd. At one point, Fidil stopped for a moment, giving Veidhlin a  
small solo into the next movement of the song. Then she jumped back  
in, the girls' fingers and bows flying just inches from each other's faces.  
**

**Their fingers seemed to imply a workout, but their faces, which were  
beaming with sheer delight, told a different story. Facing the crowd  
one last time, the girls played to what seemed no end, one of Fidil's  
bowstrings hanging from the bow as she played with just as much vigor  
as her sister. Finally, the girls ended with a staccato note, smiling  
at each other as the crowd screamed in delight.**

**As the noise was dying down, Ceol gave a loud whistle, a special one that only his family  
knew. As soon as it reached the performer's ears, they snapped their heads in that direction, running through the crowd.  
"Ceol!" they cried, nearly tackling their brother. He laughed with  
joy, returning their embrace.  
"You both did so well." he smiled. "I think that's the best I've heard  
that one!"  
"Well, Ceol," Veidhlin replied, "it's because you never heard us do  
it before!" The trio laughed as they walked out the bar to the camp,  
the song still echoing in the vast room and seemed to trail the two  
musicians, twisting and turning through the trees.**


	6. Breakout

_**Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to update! Anyway, Marie and I are both writing this story. We decided on which chapters to write, and Marie got this one. I only edited. Please review!**_

_**Disclaimer: Neither of us own Lord of the Dance or Feet of Flames. They belong to Michael Flately (who is a genius!)**_

**Breakout**

**"Ok, everyone ready?" Saoirse asked, facing her group, the Lady Dancers, all of them wearing green, floral dresses. Saiorse's was of the same design, except it was gold in color. They nodded, and music seemed to seep out of the hard ground, turned into wood, thanks to Síochána. The girls began warming up, tapping and dancing without her, their starting formation as a triangle. As they formed an X shape with a gap in the middle, Saoirse walked to the center and addressed the group.**

**"Ok, now I'm going to do a few steps, then we'll do it together. Alright?" They nodded, and she began, starting to rock back and forth on her ankles with her hands above her head. Then she lowered her arms, tapping and jumping, ending with one hand on her hip. With a nod, the girls jumped in, replicating her moves. She did another move, standing on her tiptoes and dancing in a circle in place, the girls doing the same. After dancing another formation and the girls spreading out, Saoirse noticed a figure with a red sparkle.**

_**Great,**_** she thought, groaning. Morrighan advanced tapping and smirking.**

**"Saoirse, why do you insist on being so proper?" she asked, her flashy dress having a very revealing front, her signature, as she danced around Saoirse. "Tell me, how many men have you actually had to yourself?" Her smirk increased as Saoirse shrugged, the girls continuing to dance as the two battled with each other's magic mentally. Saoirse thought this was a fight she might lose, but she felt extra strength coming from somewhere, or someone.**

_**It can't be one of them,**_** Saoirse thought, meaning her Dancers. This presence, it was masculine.**

**"The only way one of the guys is going to notice you is if you put yourself out there." Morrighan broke the silence, finally, and tapped again in a smart-alek way.**

**"Oh. You mean like this?" she asked. At once, Saoirse and her girls all ripped off their sweet-looking dresses, revealing their black underclothes. After shaking their hair and strutting into a straight line, the girl's feet turned into perfectly syncopated whirlwinds, going from a straight line to staggered lining. Saoirse smirked back at Morrighan as she stomped away with the biggest look of shock and defeat on her face. Saoirse danced in a circle, almost in a gleeful way. The girls smoothed one leg in front of the other, tapped again, then twirled in a circle then changed into a new movement of their Dance with a kick. Saoirse danced to her right, and the girls backed up, giving her some space. The girls on the left did the same. Then, with the same movement, the girls moved back in. The Lady Dancers smoothed one leg behind the other, almost like they did earlier, except they spun in a circle and moved their shoulders, repeated the same foot movement, and then raised their hands upward, dancing again. As they finished, one foot in front of the other, Saoirse heard running feet: a group of guys, nonetheless. And someone approached her from behind, causing her heart to skip a beat with his presence as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hissing in a soft, low tone.**


	7. Warlords

_**Author's Note: Marie here with the much-anticipated seventh chapter! I noticed that one reviewer said that there wasn't much detail in the last chapter. Well, as you can see, with Lindsey's help, I have rectified that problem. This chapter is mostly funny and fluffy. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, neither I nor Lindsey can claim LOTD. That belongs to the genius that is Michael Flately.**_

**Warlords**

**The man behind her presented Saoirse with a deep red long-stemmed rose. She smiled.**

**"I think that was a pretty good job of 'putting yourself out there'," Ceol told her, his lips inches from her ear. She could hardly breathe.**

**"Thank you." She smiled, and she took the rose in one hand. He got in front of her, beckoning her to the side. She began to walk, with Ceol walking backwards. He whistled as they rotated, him walking forwards, then he gave a low, playful growl.**

**"But now it's our turn." Ceol addressed his men, clapping several times. His men snapped to attention, and then he tapped several times, telling them to begin. As they started up, he walked to Saoirse again.**

**"This is called our Warlord's drill. And this practice is for you, Saoirse." He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, and she giggled. The men formed a rectangle with three lines, and Ceol strutted in front of them, acting almost like a coach as he encouraged them in their moves. He walked over to Saoirse, giving her a kiss on the neck as she laughed, putting her arm around his neck. He returned the hug, then walked to the front of his men as they rotated in place, and slowly formed a shape, from the front looked like a W.**

**"W?" asked Firinne, a Lady Dancer next to Saoirse. Saoirse nodded.**

**"For Warlords," she whispered. First he walked to the side, then did a very fun sequence of clicking moves, causing the men to act like human metronomes. He walked to the front of the men and began to dance, an arm straight, pointing towards Saoirse, then he danced the other direction, almost like a madman having the time of his life.**

_**Oh, you're dancing for me. If only it was with me! **_** Saoirse sighed, smelling the rose and not taking her eyes off him as he danced with his men, at this point his accented taps causing them to snap at attention and dance with him. Then he performed some small solos with some clicks, and they would reply. After a few of these, they were counting in Gaelic. As the men danced, Ceol began crawling towards Saoirse, playfully trying to bite the rose out of her hand. He ran back to his men and danced, with replies from them. Ceol pointed in several directions at times, setting off harmless explosions, creating accents as the men formed a line, each one of them raising their arms as they made it to the line. Once they were all in place, Ceol in front, they began to speed up, Ceol grinning at Saoirse for approval as smoke began to come off their feet.**

**"Hey!" they all shouted at once, giving an invisible audience a death-like stare, throwing their arms to their sides. Ceol kept them at attention, and with a pounding heart turned to his right.**

**And Saoirse was gone.**

**The wooden floor he was standing one slowly melted into grass again, his proud stance going with it.**

**"You're dismissed." he said, almost too soft to hear.**

**"Are you alright, sir?" one asked.**

**"I'm fine. You may go," Ceol sighed, and the men went back to camp, probably hoping to find those girls. But Ceol had other plans for him and John, as he found his overly-flirtatious friend talking to one of the Lady Dancers.**

**"Hey, pretty thing. Did I mention you are the-Ahhhhh!" Ceol grabbed his friend by the ear, dragging him away.**

**"Come on! Five more minutes!" John pleaded.**

**"No," Ceol replied. "I want to get there before the sun sets, so we don't get lost." John protested all the way there, with some very colorful Gaelic, now being held by the collar.**

***.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**

**Saoirse slipped back into the woods, searching for her dress, in hopes to repair it. Well, that's the excuse she gave Firinne, her best friend. Secretly, she was looking for Ceol. As she approached the clearing, she only saw one man, one of Ceol's Warlords.**

**"Have you seen Lord Ceol?" she asked. The man shook his head. "He left a while ago. He did seem pretty sad, though." Then he walked away, leaving Saoirse alone.**

_**Stupid! Why did you leave?**_** she thought. **_**That was a**_** balbh **_**move on your part. A golden opportunity, wasted!**_** Just before turning away, she saw a glint in the fading sun. Walking closer, she found a sliver rose. It was beautiful. As she touched it, it slowly transformed itself into a small tiara, one made for a dancer. And there was a note, addressed to her. She picked it up, puzzled, and read it.**

**You are the one that will cause this rose to melt, Saoirse. Just like you caused my **_**croi**_** to with your beauty.**

**Ceol.**

**Thinking for a moment on the word in Gaelic, she gasped.**

**"I make his...his...heart...melt." she whispered, "With my beauty." She was almost shaking with joy. She silently scooped the tiara up with care, wrapped it and the note in her dress, and walked on air back to camp to sleep.**

_**Take that, Morrighan.**_** She smiled as she fell asleep, the note under her pillow.**


	8. Lord of the Dance

_**Author's Note: I am so sorry for the incredibly long wait! You guys probably thought I had abandoned this story, huh? Well, I'm happy to say, I didn't! To reply to something submitted by an anonymous reviewer, I can kind of see where you're coming from. You see, I am simply writing down the story the dance is telling. Well, both Marie and I are. She will be writing the next chapter. She has been begging me to write this so that she can write the next one. Here you go, Marie! Now, get off my case! Just kidding, I love you to death, girl. Enjoy! Disclaimer: No, we don't own **_**Lord of the Dance **_**or **_**Feet of Flames**_**. Michael Flately, the dancing genius, owns them both.**_

**Lord of the Dance**

The next week went by relatively without event. The entire realm was bustling about the capitol village. Everyone was preparing for the biggest event in a long time: Ceol's fifth year of reigning as Lord of the Dance. Ceol didn't even have time to pursue Saoirse in that period, he was so busy overseeing the preparations.

Finally, on the eve of the celebration, everyone who had managed to come was gathered in the main square, watching where the stage had been set up. Síochana, who would be opening the event, walked onto the stage and began playing a soft melody on her flute. Everyone was enchanted by the haunting music, and they applauded loudly when she finished.

Soon, more flutes began in the background, along with some percussion. Two women in red and black dresses pranced out onto the stage before beginning to dance in harmony. One of them was Saoirse, and the other was Morrighan. It had been decided that the two best Lady Dancers would kick off the event. As head of the Lady Dancers, Saoirse was an obvious pick, and while her dancing was unconventional, Morrighan proved to be very skilled, so she was also selected.

They moved their hands in circles as they passed each other, then they danced backwards, passing each other once again. A series of graceful steps followed, then four men walked out onto the stage and tapped over to them, letting the two women dance in a figure eight around them. Soon, the men formed roof-tops with their arms, causing the two ladies to raise their arms and twirl between them. The men danced forward, twice raising the Lady Dancers above their heads. Finally, the women danced backwards as the men knelt on one knee in front of them, each holding one of their hands.

Soon, the drums picked up in tempo and volume, signaling them to exit the stage. As soon as the violins picked up, Ceol leaped out onto the stage, jumping and spinning and clicking his heals. His shirt was black with red flames decorated on it. He wore a red and black headband, black trousers, black dancing shoes, and black and red bracelets. However, the centerpiece of the outfit was a red and black belt with his symbol on it. A huge smile was plastered on his face as he did a jig in the middle of the stage. When the music paused, he spread his arms, gesturing for the rest of the troupe to come out.

As they danced in several complicated patterns, he went backstage for a moment. Soon, they all strutted forward to form a line, him coming out to be in front of them. They all kicked up their heels and just began having a good time on the stage. Finally, the finale came. It was called a peel-off. In this move, the dancers were arranged in a line across the front of the stage.

Ceol was in front of them on one knee. He would drag his arms in front of him, signaling them to raise/lower their arms and stomp their feet. After doing this three times, he stood and they all lifted their legs and began dancing again, kicking up their feet and stomping on the stage. At the end, they all ended with on leg in the air. Ceol punched the air, and they all brought their feet down at the same time with a resounding boom.

"Let the celebration begin!" Ceol yelled, barely making himself heard over the thunderous applause. With that, the entire village broke off into small groups to enjoy the merry-making going on. Ceol was left alone with his thoughts, all of which were focused on one girl: Saoirse.

_Oh, Saoirse,_ he thought miserably, _why is it so hard to make my affections known to you?_


	9. High Priests

_**Author's Note: Heeeeelllllooooo once again readers! Marie here. As Lindsey said in the previous chapter, I've been waiting semi-patiently to write this chapter. It's been one of my favorite scenes since I first saw **_**Feet of Flames**_**, and it's one of the songs I listen to constantly on my iPod. So, without further ado, the **_**High Priests**_**!**_

_**Disclaimer: Lindsey and I don't own **_**Feet of Flames**_**…sadly.**_

**High Priests**

Sagart was stunned at the message he had just received. Apparently, Don Dorcha's power had been witnessed by a passer-by, and it seemed to match Lord Ceol's, possibly surpass it.

"We do not need a war," he murmured to himself as he summoned his fellow brothers.

X X X X X

The slow walk to _T__á an Gleann na Síochána_, The Glen of Peace, was silent, save for the soft chirping of birds, which seemed to quiet themselves as the priests, garbed in their traditional sober black robes and equally somber faces, passed through a settling fog. Upon entering the Glen, the priests began to chant, walking in perfect rows, as a haunting sound emerged from the earth, acting as music. When Sagart stepped forward, an unknown gong sounded. Then, he began to sing.

_Fara natina,_

_Hura na huna me,_

_Fara natina,_

_Hura dona me._

_Sula na hura me,_

_Hura na duna me,_

_Sula na hura me,_

_Hura dora me._

The rest of the priests then joined him.

_Huna mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Huma mina tera mina_

_ala mala do._

_Huna mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Huma mina tera mina_

_ala mala do._

Then Sagart sang, alone again.

_Tera na mina, tera na harega,_

_Tera na mina, kura dona me._

_Fara natina, hura na hunana,_

_Fara natina, kura dona me._

The priests joined him once again.

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

A person, unknown to the priests, passed by as their voices rose and fell with the next verse.

_Tera mina, tera mina, tera mina lei lo,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Tera mina, tera mina, tera mina lei lo,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

Sagart replied with two other priests harmonizing.

_Fara natina,_

_Hura na huna me,_

_Fara natina,_

_Hura dona me._

_Sula na hura me,_

_Hura na duna me,_

_Sula na hura me,_

_Hura dora me._

Sagart saw two people moving in the shadows, but thinks it is an unimportant thing as the group becomes one voice again.

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Tera mina, tera mina, tera mina lei lo,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Tera mina, tera mina, tera mina lei lo,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

A pause follows, and the priests began to chant again as they walked away from the Glen. Then, half continued to chant, while the other half began anew.

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mina hey ho,_

_Hura mina tera mina_

_Ala mala go._

Another gong sounded, and the priests have left their audience of two very confused. Well, one of them confused, anyway.

"This isn't good, John," Ceol sighed as he watched the end of Sagart's cloak disappear.

"Why? It's just priests chanting for peace. Why is that a bad thing?" John inquired.

"Well, the only reason priests would have to chant for peace is because there's a threat for a war." With that, Ceol slowly slipped away, absorbed in his troubling thoughts.

John, taking one last glance at the Glen, now silent as death itself, turned to follow his leader.

_Could there be a cause for a war?_ he thought. _There can't be_.

But, one name kept circulating in Ceol's mind, a terrible name, unknown to John and his people, the people he had to protect from such an animal of a man.

_Don Dorcha. The Dark_.

_**A.N.: By the way, Sagart means priest in Gaelic. Hope you enjoyed! R&R!**_


	10. Whispering Wind and Dance of Love

_**Author's Note: Knock knock, Mo'suckra! I have been on a Toby Turner obsession! Oh, yeah, Lindsey here! So, I have decided to combine Whispering Wind and Dance of Love into one chapter. I mean, Whispering Wind is just Ceol playing the flute, so, not a whole lot I can do there. I am so happy, because I get them both to myself! Yay! Oh, by the way, Marie told me that in a Toby Turner video, he made a **_**Lord of the Dance**_** reference! He said, "I am the Lord of Rhyme…and Dance." I laughed so hard! Anyway, I am sure you have had enough of my mindless rambling. I apologize for the long wait, but I have had a very busy schedule! Hopefully, this will make up for it. R&R!**_

**Whispering Wind/Dance of Love**

Ceol sat under a tree, his blonde hair in a mess. It was late in the evening, and he had needed a moment to escape from the festivities. He twirled a wooden flute between his fingers. It was his pride and joy. The flute had taken him months to make, and the sound it produced was beautiful. People everywhere would stop whatever they were doing just to hear a few notes from his flute. However, his mind was, for once, not thinking about music.

Lately, his thoughts had been consumed by one thing alone: Saoirse, the woman who had captured his heart. Just the thought of her sent his heart into a pounding frenzy. Words could not describe how he felt about her.

_Wait,_ he thought suddenly. _Words can't, but music can!_ He placed his flute to his lips and blew soft notes out of the instrument, a sad melody filling the air. It rose and fell in volume and pitch, and it sounded like the wind blowing through leaves. Even though he was the one making it, tears filled Ceol's eyes as he played. He was pouring his very heart and soul into this one song, and with it his love for Saoirse, and his despair that no matter how he tried, he could not express his love for her.

He paused briefly in the music. When he resumed playing, a slightly happier tone took over the music. He was now playing to comfort his aching heart. He remembered something his father once told him: "Ceol, the fastest way to a woman's heart is honesty. If you are honest and sincere in your love, she will accept you. If she doesn't, then she isn't worthy of your love."

He could only hope and pray that Saoirse knew of his love. Changing affections from one woman to another is not as easy as it sounds. Finally finished with his song, he lowered his flute. Suddenly, clicking footsteps approached. Ceol knew that tread anywhere. Saoirse was coming, and he was in no fit state to see her!

Thinking quickly, Ceol turned and climbed the tree, hiding among the branches. As he looked down, Saoirse passed under the tree.

She sighed and murmured, "He doesn't even notice me. I can't even remember the last time he spoke to me. What am I to do?" Ceol felt his heart sink to his feet. Surely, she had to be talking about someone else. He loved her more than anything! No, she must love someone else.

Saoirse stepped onto a flat rock and began tapping out a few steps. However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to get a fixed rhythm, and her footwork was sloppy.

Ceol decided to do something for her. Lifting his flute back up, he began playing a soft, lilting melody. Saoirse looked around, confused. Then, almost against her will, her feet began tapping on the stone. Suddenly, she leapt and landed on the ground, which changed into wood for her. She pranced around, her short black skirt spinning out as she twirled. Her blouse was atypical for her, a short, white blouse with thin straps on her shoulders. Ceol ogled her bare arms and long legs as she danced, but his music never faltered. She smiled in ecstasy, clicking her heels and tapping her toes.

When she finally finished, she called, "Whoever you are, thank you." Without another word, she turned and walked back toward the village. Ceol sighed and watched her go. Suddenly, he heard a cracking sound. Without warning, he was falling through the air and landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

"Ow," he groaned, checking that his flute wasn't broken. "I hope she didn't see that."

"She did!" Saoirse called back in a giggle. He jumped up from the ground and ran back to the village, purely intending to head to the Dancing Fire and drown himself in a few pints of ale.


	11. Entracte and Dangerous Game

_**Author's Note: Why hello there! Marie at your service! This chapter contains another of my favorite songs, so I hope you enjoy!**_

**Entracte/Dangerous Game**

Síochána slowly walked into the forest, the part where little dancing was held. The place was haunted, according to the priest who told her about this place.

"Hmm," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps all this place needs is a little music." She reached into her bag, pulling out her special flute. Finding a dry place to kneel on, she started her favorite song, not really to summon anyone, just to give her some comfort. When she finished, she held her flute in her hands, wondering why the forest seemed so dark still.

Footsteps. She whirled around to see a dark figure, and her left hand suddenly felt lighter. She turned around to see…Don Dorcha. With her flute.

"Give that back!" she shouted, running after him. He was almost running in circles around her, then he tossed the instrument to his companion. Síochána turned around to run after him.

"Give it back! Please!" she shouted. Then the flute was tossed back to Don Dorcha. As his men filed in with deadly stealth, he raised his leg, snapping the flute into two irreparable shards, tossing them on the ground. She scooped them up with care and sat in shock as the rest of Dorcha's men formed a moving, tapping cage-like circle around her. A stone circle formed under their feet as they danced, leaving only a small patch of grass where the Little Spirit sat. As they moved, the stone spread outward, the circle gradually growing larger.

Pushing and running in several directions at first, Síochána gave a cry of grief and frustration, then fell upon the cold forest ground. Dorcha appeared as the circle opened into a gate, the stone moving to divide the clearing into two halves, one of earth, one of stone. The gate of men blocked her exits once again, leaving her to face either Dorcha or his men. Dorcha himself had a small patch of stone that moved with his feet as he danced toward her, a dangerous leer on his face.

All the while, Laochra played a menacing song on his violin.

"Where is he?" Dorcha hissed, walking slowly to the frightened being.

"I-I don't know," she replied, shaking, still clutching her now broken flute.

"You lie!" he shouted, picking her up and shaking her violently, ignoring her screams. "Where is he? You know! Tell me!"

"No! I don't!" she screamed. Dorcha put her down and raised his arm to possibly knock her unconscious. The Little Spirit winced at the approaching blow, certain it was her end.

"Get away from her!" a voice shouted, and a man placed himself between Dorcha and Síochána. She took a few steps near him.

"Ceol!" she shouted, drawing nearer.

"Stay behind me." He turned, caressing her face like she was his daughter. Then he turned back to Dorcha, who cackled in mockery to Ceol.

"You really think you can win this time? There's only one of you!"

"Men! This way!" Ceol motioned to his men, almost as an answer. The men assembled, turning the earthen half of the clearing to polished, gleaming wood. Almost at once, they stopped. Priests filed in, chanting, perhaps to stop the fray. Síochána backed up, as instructed by Ceol.

Two men began beating on the ground, one from each army. The men began to battle, first the army, each side advancing and shrinking either the wood or the stone on the floor. Once they even counted in Gaelic to throw each other off and to get a power advantage in order to defeat their opponents with their Dance. All the while, the Priests chanted, some holding torches, some pounding staffs into the ground for a steady tempo. Finally, Dorcha slapped Ceol's arm to get his attention, and the two leaders now began to battle, each one's magic steps as powerful as the other's, sweat gathering on their brows in the intense toil the Dance was taking on them physically. The stone and wood mingled as they battled, spearing each other with sharp, jagged lines.

After several minutes, Síochá had had enough. "Stop!" she cried, throwing her magic down, attempting to calm them.

She made her way to the front, and the men separated, filing to their respective bases. After some violence, and another attempt on her life from Dorcha, he flounced away, leaving two people in the forest, alone.

"Ceol," Síochána almost sobbed. "Look." She held her flute for him to see. This stopped a passer-by in the forest. As the person looked, she saw the pure pain that filled Ceol's exhausted eyes.

"Oh, Síochána," he said, his voice portraying sorrow, "I'm so sorry." He looked at the flute, taking it in his hands. As the person watched from her hiding place, she saw his frustration on what to do. Then, it seemed he got an idea. He turned away from Síochána, putting the flute behind him. He seemed to lose some energy in what he was doing, for his shoulders lowered a bit more.

"Well," he sighed, as her turned around, "looks like you haven't seen the last of this one." As he gave her back her flute, as good as new, pure joy flooded her face.

"Ceol! You did it! Thank you."

"Anything for you," he smiled, brushing a tear from her face. And then the Little Spirit danced away, leaving Ceol alone, she thought.

_I've never seen him this compassionate before. Well, maybe I have, I jus never noticed it until now,_ the observer in the woods, Saoirse, noted as Ceol seemed absorbed in his thoughts. She gathered her courage and managed to whisper, "You are a great leader. You have all the qualities many of our own people need." Ceol's head snapped to the voice, trying to trace it.

She was walking around the trees, away from where she was hiding when she spoke.

"Thank you," he whispered, all he could manage at the time. Then Saoirse appeared, looking surprised.

"Hello, Ceol," she said good-naturedly, then concerned. "Are you all right?" Ceol straightened his shoulders, giving an almost-proud stance.

"I'm fine. Never been better." But he propped on a tree trunk as he spoke. Saoirse walked around, and she saw little sparkles of golden glitter, and pieces of charred grass.

"What happened here?" she asked. He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. You probably saw, anyway." She looked at him, trying to look confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Weren't you just talking in the forest?"

"No, Ceol, I just got here." He sighed.

"Oh. Well, can we going to the village? I'm not going to lie, I'm exhausted." She smiled.

"Yes we can. I'll lead the way." He put his arm around her shoulders, almost like a support, and they walked slowly to their home. Then a red figure flitted in, and Ceol's free hand did something. Saoirse caught it and the stopped. She looked at him, shocked.

"Did you just-"

"No. I don't think so…" he replied.

_Did I?_ he asked himself. _No, I couldn't have. I've never seen that woman before in my life. _Saoirse placed her arm around his waist.

"You look like a dead man walking, Ceol," she said gently.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" he asked. She laughed, forgetting the incident.

"Okay, maybe not. Let's get you home." She smiled, and they started home.

But, perhaps they should have stayed. For, little did they know, the events that would come next would be life-altering.


	12. Fiery Nights

_**Author's Note: Hello again, readers. When we last left off, a mysterious figure had just entered the clearing where Ceol and Dorcha had had a battle of epic proportions. Now, we shall find out who this person is and what he or she will cause. Enjoy!**_

**Fiery Nights**

Morrighan glanced around the clearing disdainfully. She was a bit disappointed that she had missed the battle, but she had seen enough to know that there was no victor…this time, at least. Mysteriously, she found herself drawn to Don Dorcha, which in itself was odd. Normally, she felt a fleeting fancy for a man, and then it was gone. This was bit different, a bit more…powerful.

Deciding that it was time she got to know this man, she began the most seductive dance in her arsenal. A deep, soulful music issued from the surrounding trees, and her body began to sway to the music. She pranced around the clearing, her dark hair flying in unruly curls around her face. Morrighan's dance was specifically designed to draw in her prey: men. It perfectly accentuated her long legs, the cleavage her dress showed, and her bare arms.

Morrighan noticed with satisfaction that her four followers from the village soon joined her, dancing their lustful dance. They were dressed differently than her, however. While her dress was blood red and covered in rubies, their's were midnight blue, had lace covering their midriffs, and sleeves that came to the middle of their forearms. Each of them danced in a way specifically choreographed to attract men to them.

Suddenly, the music changed, growing in volume and intensity. Morrighan looked up and saw one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. Don Dorcha strode over to her, admiring her graceful form, taking in her appearance. Four men accompanied him, each going over to a girl.

Dorcha was dressed a bit differently than usual. He was wearing a black tunic, black trousers, and he was, for once, without his mask. He danced with Morrighan for a bit on the wooden floor, then they pranced off to Dorcha's dwelling. Morrighan eagerly flitted into his bedchamber, and he followed, removing his tunic as he went.

X X X X X

Dorcha and Morrighan lay on his bed, curled close to each other. Morrighan was snuggled up to his bare chest, and he had his arm wrapped around her, his hand stroking her back.

"You are very different from any man I've ever met," she murmured, tracing the lines of his biceps.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he teased, glancing down at her

"I think…good thing," Morrighan replied, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Dorcha, I want to help you. Ceol does not deserve to lead. I want to follow you. How may I help you?"

Dorcha smiled evilly when he thought of defeating his greatest enemy. "Well, I was thinking that maybe you could use your extraordinary talents on his unsuspecting mind," he murmured.

Morrighan grinned devilishly. "I think I know exactly what to do. Perhaps, instead of defeating him, we can corrupt him. Your killing him could just be a backup plan."


	13. Celtic Fire

Author's Note: Hey there readers! Marie here with Chapter 13! Okay, so I've probably said this for the past few chapters I've written, but this is one of my FAVORITE songs! Here's Celtic Fire!

Oh, by the way, Veidhlin means Violin and Fidil means Fiddle in Gaelic. Just so ya know! ^_^

**Celtic Fire**

"I'm such a fool," Ceol sighed inside the Dancing Fire Bar. A group of people, known in Eire as the band Amhrán, of which Ceol was part, surrounded the troubled dancer, and he sighed again.

"Come on, Ceol," Fidil his younger sister coaxed. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"It was! It was awful. I was with the guys, doing our Warlords drill, and Saoirse's girls had just done a stellar dance. She has a truly talented group, and she seemed absorbed in the very steps she was making."

"Oh, I saw that!" Veidhlin his older sister replied. "Now _that_ was girl power!" Ceol nodded.

"It really was. She looked so beautiful. Then we started to drill, and I was confident as soon as the drill started. I'm only confident with her when I'm dancing-"

"We know," the band, as a whole, replied.

Ceol sighed, then continued. "I felt like we were the only people there, in that moment, just as the drill ended. I was about to talk to her, when…she was gone. I was so shot down, and I really don't want to talk about it. And her seeing me falling out of a tree after playing for her didn't help! I just want to be alone for a while." He waved to the man behind the counter. "I need a pint."

Two bows, one green and the other blue, snapped on the table, trapping the pint in its place.

"I don't think so," Veidhlin replied. "I have a better idea."

"What?" he asked. She pulled from behind her back his black wooden flute that was accented with silver, crafted by his own hands.

"Oh no! The last time I played a flute, I fell out of a tree!"

"There aren't any trees to fall out of here, Ceol," the drummer replied, twirling his drumstick. Ceol sighed.

"What are we going to play?" he asked. Fidil smiled.

"Our specialty."

"I haven't played that in…" He sighed. "In months. Before _he _came along. I don't think I can."

"Well, let's find out." Fidil found a table and stood on it, waiting for her sister. It took Veidhlin a little while, but she found another vacant table, and the two began the song everyone loved and never tired of hearing.

Ceol watched as the other members put in their parts, and soon he remembered his cues. He began to play, softly, sitting where he was. Then he got confident, jumped on a table, and played his flying flute solo for the cheering crowd. His sisters beamed as they were keeping time by stomping one of their feet on the tables, jumping back in as his solo ended, never changing speed.

_I haven't felt this…alive…in ages_. _This is wonderful! _Ceol thought as he played his flute more flair, speed, and perfection than he had ever done before as the song rose and fell in volume. His fingers seemed to be a blur in the corner of his eye. Then the whole group suddenly jumped, and Ceol pointed to their drummer so he could have a moment in the spotlight.

Playfully, as the drum solo went on, Ceol twirled his flute around in his fingers, encouraged by the cheering crowd. Then the whole group began the next movement. He ran about, alternating between facing his sisters, and forgetting his worries for a little while. The people in the bar stood, screaming in praise as the song ended with a long note from the violins, the rolling drums, and low trills from the flute. Ceol laughed and bowed with the rest of the group.

"Thanks, guys. This was just what I needed." He embraced his two sisters. They smiled.

"Told you it was better than a pint," Veidhlin said. And they walked out the door, and in Ceol's mind, the only thing that would have made life better right then was to have Dorcha vanquished and the love of his life in his arms.


	14. Stolen Kiss

_**Author's Note: Marie here once again! This chapter contains much fluffiness, so prepare yourselves! Onward!**_

**Stolen Kiss**

Saoirse stepped into her favorite clearing, her soft shoes making no noise. She was wearing her traditional white dress, and she had Ceol's tiara adorning her hair. She twirled softly as she walked, then bent over backwards gracefully, almost like stretching, as a soft, sweet melody cam from the trees around her. With a jump and a kick, she began dancing around the clearing,

She spun, and suddenly stopped, for she thought she heard a sigh coming from some bushes behind her. She pondered it for a moment but continued on with her Dance, rocking back and forth on her ankles. After dancing to another spot, she twirled in place, moving her hands in front of her gracefully and with much speed. She stood in place and raised her arms to the sky, and more girls came out of the clearing, dancing with her.

All the while, Ceol was watching from those sighing bushes. He was almost as absorbed in the music as the performers were, and didn't seem to notice anything besides Saoirse herself as she twirled among their flowing gowns of various soft yet bright colors.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" a voice behind him asked. Ceol jumped so high, it almost blew his cover.

"Erin above! John, don't do that!" he whispered.

"Sorry," he replied, and continued. "So, you think she's pretty?"

"More than that. She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

"And she's talented?"

"It's like she's a perfect swan out there, not making a single mistake to a dance she may not have even done before. And, more than that, she's a wonderful person. She's so compassionate and kind. Saoirse is a perfect leader for the Lady Dancers in more ways than just beauty and talent."

"Well," John smiled, "why don't you go out there and tell her all that?"

"No way! I'll freeze as soon as the music stops."

"Well, dance with her!" Ceol shook his head violently. John sighed, then a sneaky smile crept on his face.

"I'll break your flute." Ceol froze, giving him a shocked stare.

"You wouldn't." John pulled out the wood and silver creation.

"Oh, we both know I would. Now get out there!""Okay." Ceol took a deep breath as the girls left, leaving Saoirse alone again, standing in the center of the clearing, looking rather lonely.

"On the count of three. One…"

"Two three!" John shouted, kicking his friend out of the bushes. He stumbled a little, but had time to compose himself as he walked to Saoirse, coming behind her and making the shape of her silhouette with his hands.

She smiled as he put one arm around waist, taking her other hand in his own. She placed her other hand on his on her waist, and they began to sway.

"Can I tell you something?" Ceol asked as they walked around in a circle, their stance not changing. Saoirse nodded, and he continued. "I'm scared to death right now."

"I am too…a little. Just follow my lead," she whispered, and the ground turned to wood for him as they broke from each other's arms.

He walked with her to one side, and with a move of his arm, she bent back, almost like she was under a spell. Then they danced in the other direction, and with a flick of his fingers, almost magic-like, she twirled like a ballerina. He motioned to himself, and she danced to him in the same stance. Ceol drew Saoirse closer and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, making her smile.

Then they danced in another direction as one, and he tapped first. She silently rocked back and forth on her ankles. He tapped again, and she twirled. After he tapped another time, she danced around him, one hand on his chest and back as she sweetly went around his figure.

Then suddenly, a red form came in, wearing hard shoes as Ceol held Saoirse's hand.

"Why don't you take on someone that's at your level? You know, more of a match for you?" Morrighan smirked. Saoirse, on a big step of faith, let go, and Morrighan took Ceol for a tapping ride.

He seemed engrossed in her, and Saoirse's heart sank, her faith in him getting a little weaker. She cast her gaze down at their feet and gasped in shock. Morrighan's feet danced on stone rather than wood, but what shocked Saoirse was that the stone was slowly spreading. Soon, almost half of Ceol's feet were on stone instead of wood. Little did she know that it was a simple spell. As Morrighan danced around him, almost like Saoirse-except she seemed to want to rip the white cloth that made up Ceol's shirt off of his chest-he sighed.

"You are…truly enchanting." Morrighan grinned in victory, a little too soon.

"I know. Well, most people wait until we're in a more…intimate place before they tell me that." As soon as the words left her mouth, his eyes lost their glazed-over look.

And when Saoirse knew that that was a façade of love, she walked towards him, almost like she was reminding him that she was there. Ceol walked away from the red temptress, almost in disgust.

"Actually, I've found my match. And it's not you." He joined back up with Saoirse, in their first stance, swaying again. Morrighan slinked away as they danced in a circle again. Then Ceol spun Saoirse around, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

"Finally," John sighed from his hiding place, then slowly walked away, leaving the couple alone. Saoirse almost couldn't believe it as Ceol looked at her, his blue eyes filled with love.

"Saoirse, there's something I want to tell you."

"Yes?" She smiled, and Ceol took a deep breath.

"I lov-" He snapped his attention to the approaching footsteps.

"Ceol? What's wrong?" Saoirse asked, drawing nearer to him. He caught a flash of purple, silver, and black from the approaching thunder.

"Go! Run!" he shouted, and they took off sprinting, the wood flooring erasing itself to cover their tracks. Saoirse took the lead, her softer shoes being less of a weight on her feet. As she came to a clearing, Ceol noticed something foreign on the ground.

"Saoirse!" he called, and with a sudden burst of speed, he pushed her out of the way of a net, which snatched him up in the air instead. Saoirse quickly jumped up, staring at him, stunned.

"Ceol!" she shouted. He tried twisting around to break free, but it was useless.

"I'm fine! Go!" he replied. The footsteps were getting closer.

"No! I won't go without you!" Saoirse protested, tears threatening to come. He bent down from his roped cage as she walked nearer. He gave her one last kiss through the netting, then paid attention to the approaching feet.

"You won't make it if you don't go now! Go, Saoirse! Fly!" As she ran into the forest, she heard Ceol shout one final thing: "Flee, my love!" She stopped dead in her tracks, hiding behind a tree.

'_My love'? My love. He loves me! Then…_ she almost slapped herself. _…then what am I doing here?_ She sprinted back to where he was…

But they had taken him. He was gone. A soft sob escaped her lips as she picked up a piece of his shirt, probably ripped off in the fray.

She sat down, allowing tears to come freely. Then she noticed something. On the piece of cloth, there seemed to be a golden sparkle. Where would that have come from? Her dress was white and silver, and the other one's was red.

_Idiot! It's Síochána!_ A gasp escaped her lips this time. _She can help! _Saoirse ran as hard as she could to find the Spirit, all the while Ceol's words echoing in her mind.


	15. Nightmare

_**Author's Note: Run away! The Black Beast of Aaargh is chasing us! Oh, wait, that's just my imagination. Stupid imagination! Silence! I kill you! Wait, no, don't die imagination! I need you to continue writing **_**Feet of Flames!**_** Wait, you were pretending? This is why we can't have nice things! It's all your fault! Oh, hi readers! Lindsey here. Sorry, I was having a spaz-attack. And now, onward!**_

**Nightmare**

Ceol grunted as two men threw him to the ground, hard. They picked him up by his arms and forced him to stand before Dorcha's throne. Don Dorcha sneered down at the Lord of the Dance, a hideous grin spread across his face. Raising a hand, he summoned all his troops into the clearing. They formed two diagonal lines on either side of Ceol, who was glaring defiantly at Dorcha.

"Behold, the Lord of the Dance," Dorcha spat. All the men started laughing raucously. "You think yourself so powerful, don't you? Look at where it's gotten you, all this power." Once again, the men laughed and jeered. At a signal from Dorcha, Laochra started up his evil fiddle, and the ceremony began. The men formed a circle around Ceol and began tapping out an ominous rhythm, slowly and steadily getting faster and faster.

When the tempo reached its peak and halted for a moment, Ceol threw his head back, staring at the heavens pleadingly. _Please,_ he prayed silently. _Please keep Saoirse safe._ As the horrible Dance began again, Ceol slowly hung his head. _So, this is it,_ he thought miserably. _I'm really going to die_.

In the bushes by the clearing, Saoirse and Síochána watched, horrorstruck. "He's going to die," Saoirse mumbled dejectedly. "They're going to kill him."

Ceol turned what he was sure were his last thoughts to his friends. _John, I hope you'll be alright. Veidhlin, Fidil, be strong for me. And Saoirse…I hope you will one day find happiness._ Suddenly, the two men closest to Ceol forced him to one knee, which was an extremely uncomfortable position with your back hunched and your hands bound behind you.

Dorcha came over and ripped Ceol's magic belt from around his waist. One of the men grabbed Ceol by his hair and forced his head back, making him watch as Dorcha gleefully put on the magic belt.

Kneeling down in front of Ceol, Dorcha said quietly, "Oh, don't worry about that little Coureen I've seen you with. I'll make sure my men will be…good to her. The same for your sisters." Ceol felt his blood run hot, and a red haze descended over his vision.

"May your soul wander the land forever," Ceol growled. Dorcha merely chuckled darkly and ordered for Ceol to be marched up to the top of the stone dais in the clearing.

After Ceol had been forced to stand in place, Dorcha ordered his crossbow to be brought to him. In the bushes, Síochána suddenly had an idea. She sprinted to the tallest tree behind the stone dais and climbed up until she was directly over Ceol.

"When this bolt goes through your heart," Dorcha snarled, "there won't even be a body to bury!" Just as he let the bolt fly, Síochána released some of her magic dust. In a column of smoke, Ceol disappeared into thin air, exactly as Dorcha had predicted.

When the Little Spirit went back to Saoirse, the maiden asked tearfully, "What will we do now?"

Síochána grinned mischievously. "_You _are going to wait here. I have a job to do." Before Saoirse could stop her, she ran out into the clearing and sprinkled it on the ground. At a motion from her arms, an enormous fire sprang out of the ground and disappeared. In its place, surrounded by smoke, stood a very angry Ceol.


	16. The Duel

_**Author's Note: Hey guys! Marie here with the next chapter! I'm kinda sad that we have only one or two more chapters left, but I'm excited all the same!**_

**The Duel/Victory with Feet of Flames (solo)**

Síochána sprinted back to her and Saoirse's hiding place in the bushes, a little out of breath and smelling slightly of smoke with glitter clinging to her hair. As Saoirse drew Síochána in and dusted her off, she got a good look at Ceol. His shirt was gone, revealing a tattoo in the shape of three pointed ovals with a circle binding them together on the left side of his chest: the knot of the Celts. He still had his traditional black pants, and he had a band on one arm that had long tassels. The band around his head was the same, and he had black gauntlets on his writs. Half of the stone floor turned back to wood, much to Dorcha's dismay and fright. He slowly back away from the resurrected lord, trying to worm his way free.

"Now, Ceol…can we just talk about this?"

Ceol's eyes lit up in a new-found anger. "Don't even try, you _scum saol Îseal_, to reason with me!"

Saoirse smiled from the bushes, having realized Ceol had just called his enemy low-life scum, and whispered, "That's right, love. Don't you back down." As Ceol continued talking, the wood began to spread, for he was walking closer to Dorcha, who was shrinking away as he spoke.

"What have I done," Dorcha's voice trembled, "to deserve such fury?"

"What have you done?" Ceol's voice began small, then grew to a shout. "You tried to corrupt me, you kidnapped me, you stole my belt in an attempt to become Lord of the Dance, and," here, he pointed to his side, showing a slight, bleeding cut, roaring, "YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!"

Dorcha's face grew white, then turned red in anger. "Well, let me try again. I won't be so careless this time." Dorcha's voice seemed soaked in pure evil.

"You shall never get the chance, coward," Ceol replied, and he sprinted towards his enemy, wood floor coming with him, as menacing music poured out of the atmosphere. The Dance the two were performing started out like a pattern: Ceol would dance first, wood advancing with him. Then, Dorcha would reply, stone floor causing Ceol to retreat. After a while, something seemed strange to an unknown audience member.

"Saoirse," Síochána whispered, "are those sparks?"

"I don't think so, but it's possible. He's dancing on stone." The small being shook her head.

"I was talking about Ceol." Saoirse looked, and she realized that Síochána was right: Ceol's feet were _smoking_, and sparks were coming off his shoes, which she now noticed had silver heels, unlike his usual black ones. After a sudden stop, lightning began to flash in the distance.

Ceol danced two motions unanswered, then the two danced simultaneously, each one's power as great as the other's. Then Dorcha danced towards Ceol, causing him to back up, and gave a small side kick to the chest, a harmless one. Ceol, in reply, danced back, kicking Dorcha near the face, just enough to shock him. Then the two men stopped and spun around, facing each other again.

They walked near each other, then Ceol's right hand clasped Dorcha's right, then his left hand grabbed his right elbow. Then one foot from each person hit the ground, then the other. Locked in this position, the men began to dance in a circle, trying to get into each other's minds and defeat him. All of the ground, except the ground beneath them, turned to grass. The ground beneath their tapping feet seemed to be in a battle in itself, spinning between wood and stone as their feet gained speed.

Soon, the dancers' feet began to smoke, Ceol's giving the occasional spark. Then the men separated, the same speed as before, the grass turning to the opponent's floor again. Then they both stopped at the same time. As Dorcha came near, he kicked Ceol in the face, making him a little wobbly. He kicked him again, teetering him more. With his last kick connecting sharply with Ceol's chest before hitting his face, Ceol fell to the ground.

Dorcha pulled his head up by his hair, smirked, threw his head back down, and turned to his master, who nodded in approval as the clearing turned to full stone.

"Well done, my student," he hissed, and began his menacing victory song for Dorcha as he strutted around the clearing.

"Oh no," Saoirse, from their hiding place in the bushes, whispered.

"What's wrong? Ceol's more powerful than him. He can still win!" Síochána whispered back.

Saoirse shook her head, tears forming. "Did you see how that kick hit his chest? He's hurt too badly. He can't get up!" Saoirse began to cry. Shocked, Síochána quickly climbed a tree, an action that confused a sobbing Saoirse. But, she had been right.

_This is it_, Ceol thought, his strength ebbing slowly but surely. _This is the end of everything good. Erin, please, save Saoirse, Síochána, and John. Take care of my sisters. Let there be at least some good in this world. _He slid to the ground, his breaths coming slower, his heart slowing down. _I am finished_, he thought then closed his eyes.

_Wait, that song. Have I heard that before?_ His eyes opened with much difficulty. Yes, he had heard that before! Síochána's melody, composed for him, but inaudible to Dorcha and Laochra. The violin had stopped playing, for the bowstrings had been cut in half, perfectly and evenly. Then the violin's strings themselves began to snap, the final one hitting its shocked owner across the face, leaving a bright red streak.

The melody played on, stronger. Ceol hadn't realized it until now, but this song did more than summon him to its player. Slowly, as he tried to stand, he realized that his heart rate was increasing, and he was becoming more alert. He could breathe again.

But it wasn't enough. He sank down on one knee. _What can I do?_ Then, he remembered a solo someone taught him in his childhood, one he said was legendary for bringing strength when it was needed most.

_Well, I need it now more than ever_, Ceol reasoned, and, with Dorcha's back still turned, he slowly rose and began. As the solo sped up and slowed down in its beginning, he almost collapsed. But he stayed on his feet and continued the Dance. As he came to its climax, he noticed (and smelled) something.

_What is that?_ he wondered, not missing a beat. Then, as something wandered into his vision, he knew.

Smoke.

"His…his feet are…are on fire," Saoirse whispered, as surprised as Síochána. And she was right, again. Ceol's feet were blazing with a white fire, almost blinding to look at. And very obvious, causing Dorcha to turn around in shock as the solo ended, Ceol's feet still aflame.

"He really has feet of flames now, doesn't he Saoirse?" Síochána asked playfully, and Saoirse smiled.

Ceol started walking back to a disbelieving Dorcha, who stood in as much shock as his master.

"Want to try the again?" he asked, and tapped, kicking _him_ in the face, once.

_That is for Saoirse,_ Ceol thought.

Twice. _That's for Síochána._

Thrice. _That's for John._ Then the two competitors backed away from each other and began to run, building up strength…

Ceol hit the ground, hard, as he gave Dorcha a fourth and final kick to the face. He saw a large explosion, and Dorcha, the Dark, was no more. He would have cried out in victory, but the pain in his chest prevented it. Apparently, the effects of the Feet of Flames solo were only temporary. Saoirse ran from her hiding place in the bushes, searching for him frantically.

"Ceol! My love!" she cried as she found him, kneeling at his side. "He's gone. Forever. You've won!" She looked puzzled at first, then her eyes went to where his fingers were clutching his chest, a crimson liquid seeping from beneath them.

Blood.

She looked shocked, whispering, "No. No, Ceol."

"Saoirse," he choked. "There's something I want to say before I go."

"Don't talk that way," she chided. "You're going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine."

Ceol shook his head. "Saoirse…I…"

"No. Don't say anything," she whispered, a tear in her eye. She bent over, as he was fading, and they shared one last kiss. Then he was gone.

"Ceol…" Saoirse whispered, then began to sob, drawing his head onto her lap. A few moments passed of pure sorrow, and then she felt a hand, warm and kind, on her cheek.

"You were never good at good-byes. Or telling people they just defeated their greatest foe of all time," he chided playfully.

"Oh, Ceol!" she cried as they stood up together and embraced. He smiled at her, then was tackled by a pair of small arms from behind.

"You did it!" she, Síochána, cried. Ceol embraced her, swinging her around, laughing all the while.

"And I couldn't have done it without you." He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. Then he turned to Saoirse, who was smiling, a small tear on her cheek. He brushed it away tenderly, then kissed her again, with as much passion as he could muster.

"Come, there's something I want to ask you," Ceol said as he scooped his love in his arms, taking her to a glade in the forest to be alone.

_**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Oh, just out of curiosity, would you guys like to read a **_**Swan Princess **_**fic from me? It'll be the film, just modern day with more music and some parts changed. I'll probably include a few of their summers in detail. Let me know! **__**J**_


	17. Victory

_**Author's Note: Lindsey here with the next chapter of this story! Only one more chapter, and this story is over. Sad day! I am extremely sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I've been suffering from chronic writer's block. You guys know what that's like, right? Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Please enjoy!**_

**Victory**

"What did you want to ask me?" Saoirse inquired as Ceol gently set her on her feet. He looked at her lovingly, moving a lock of hair out of her face.

"Saoirse, from the moment I met you, you have driven me mad. But not in a bad way. Every moment, you infiltrate my thoughts, dominating my mind. There was a time when I would only be confident around you while I was dancing." Ceol paused, smiling at her. "But that was before I almost lost you back in the clearing. So, even though I am nervous, I am confident enough to at least ask this one question of you."

Here, Ceol took both of her hands and bent down on one knee. "My dearest, loveliest Saoirse…will you marry me?"

Saoirse gasped as tears welled up in her eyes. Ceol stood up hurriedly. "Saoirse? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said? I'm so sorry, I-" He was cut off abruptly as Saoirse crushed her lips against his, pulling him close.

When he pulled back, he asked breathlessly, "Was that a 'yes?'"

She looked puzzled, then comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh. Yes. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you!" With that, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Ceol wrapped his arms around her, spinning her around in the air. Both of them were laughing giddily; Ceol and Saoirse were-finally-engaged. 

"By the power vested in me by the goddess Erin, I pronounce you husband and wife." Sagart gave the new couple a heartfelt smile. "You may kiss your bride."

Ceol cupped Saoirse's face and gently pulled her into a sweet, passionate kiss. Everyone gathered applauded loudly, particularly John, Firinne, Veidhlin, and Fidil.

When the two pulled apart and faced the audience, Sagart said, "I now present to you, Lord Ceol and Lady Saoirse, the Lord and Lady of the Dance." Once again, everyone applauded loudly. There were even cheers and whistles from a few scattered places.

About ten minutes later, Saoirse had changed out of her wedding gown and into her more appropriate and comfortable white dancing gown. She was standing next to Ceol as everyone came up to them and offered various congratulations. When that was done, and everyone was milling around, doing nothing, Veidhlin and Fidil hopped up onto some tables.

"Hey!" Fidil cried out. "Aren't we supposed to be having a party?" Ceol, Saoirse, and all the guests cheered raucously.

"Amháin, beirt, triúr, ceathrar!" Veidhlin counted, waving her bow and stomping her foot. Both she and Fidil started up an energetic tune on the violins. Automatically, all the dancers except for Saoirse and Ceol leapt into the center, creating a large, wooden dance floor.

They pranced with wild abandon, kicking their heels up, holding their arms up, spinning around in circle, and clicking their heels together. About midway through the song, John waved Saoirse and Ceol forward. Laughing giddily, they both took their places at the head of the large triangle formed by the group of dancers. Ceol directed their movements, and Saoirse could not believe she was so lucky as to have this man for her husband. Finally, the music drew to its finale, and they all raised their arms above their heads in triumph. The evil that had finally plagued them was gone for good.


	18. Epilogue and Planet Ireland

**_Author's Note: Lindsey and Marie here. We've finally come to the end of this story...for now! Yes, you heard correctly! We will be writing a sequel! However, until then, please enjoy this final installment of Feet of Flames. As always, Feet of Flames and Lord of the Dance belong to the genius of Michael Flately._**

**Five Years Later...**

"Micheál!" Saoirse called into the open door of her and Ceól's home.

"Coming, Mama!"

A small child tumbled out; a boy of about five, with dusty curly hair and bright grey-blue eyes. He had a white shirt on that was almost too big, black pants, and hard shoes with tiny silver heels.

Saoirse smiled down at her son, offering him her hand. "Come on, you don't want to be late!" Micheál nodded and trotted along side his mother, his shoes clicking a little as they hit the ground. Saoirse, in a long white dress and soft shoes, guided Micheál along through the all-too familiar path through the woods to their people's favorite clearing.

When they were only a tree's thickness away, Saoirse stopped, slowly kneeling down in front of her son. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"I...I think so, Mama," he replied. Saoirse smiled, pressing a small kiss into her son's curly hair before standing again, walking into the clearing.

She watched carefully as Micheál's eyes went wide, looking at all the men and women dancing all around in bright, flowing colors, music swirling all around them. The women laughed as their partners lifted them high into the air, their tightly curled hair and free skirts flying in all directions.

"Lá breithe sona, Michaél," Saoirse whispered, smiling at her son as he continued to look around in wonder.

Firinne danced up to the mother-son pair breathless and smiling in her blue outfit, her tightly curled brown hair still slinging around her. "What do you think?" she asked, kneeling down to his level. "Are you excited?"

"Very," he replied, the first word he'd said since he took in the scene before him.

"You have a few steps, don't you, Michaél?" Saoirse prompted, scooting her son foreword a little. "Don't be shy, mo mhac. Go on!"

Stumbling a little, the young boy regained his balance quickly before glancing around at the smiling, expectant faces, waiting for his first steps. Michaél took a deep breath, and started, his steps slow, cautious, and almost anxious; being such a small boy in such a large audience, one can understand his nerves.

As he picked up a little bit of speed, Saoirse noticed a little bit of golden sparks began to twinkle off his shoes. And, suddenly, one or two landed together, and there sprouted a pure white flower with golden veins. Michaél's small audience gasped, then broke into applause, causing the small boy to blush.

A strong, deep laughter filled the air, and Michaél's eyes widened with delight. "Papa!" he cried, running towards his father.

"Oh!" Ceól laughed, catching his son and lifting him high in the air. "You did well, mo éan. Very well."

"Thank you, Papa," Michaél smiled, once Ceól had sat him down again. The little boy ran back to his first performance, plucking the flower and looking around, trying to see who to give it to.

Saoirse walked over to her husband, trying not to laugh as their son found Nóinín, John and Firnne's daughter of about the same age, and presented her with the flower. "Like his Uncle John already," she winked, laughing again as Ceól rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't say that just yet, my dear," Ceól smiled. "Just the other day..." his voice faded out as Saoirse glanced around her and was smiling at her sweet son as he kissed Nóinín on the cheek, when she noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing that direction, she caught a glimpse of something, just for a second, something she couldn't quite place. It was a red shade...

"Saoirse? Saoirse! Are you all right?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, shaking her head a little. "I'm sorry, mo ghrá, I just...thought I saw something over there."

"It's all right, banríon mo," Ceól soothed, turning Saoirse's gaze back to her family. "We're safe now. That chapter is over, and your new one is about to begin."

Saoirse smiled as Michaél ran back to his father, hugging one of his legs. She looked around her at her wonderful family of dancers, and back to her husband as he gently placed a hand on her blossoming stomach. "Our new chapter," she corrected, and The Lord and Lady of the Dance shared a sweet kiss.

"Let the new chapter begin!" Ceól shouted, and Síochána threw her magic in the air; music filled the clearing again.

All the adults leapt out into the glen, their hard shoes clicking on the wood floor. Ceol danced at the head of the formation, then he waved everyone to a halt. He signaled with his arms, creating two sets of four bangs.

As everyone began dancing without music, sections of the floor began to rise up, lifting the dancers into the air on enormous wooden stairs. On the front of each section was a different color of Eire, causing Síochána to wink at the children.

The two children gazed in awe at the spectacle before them, catching a glimpse of the future they would someday share with their families. Someday, they would learn that there was a much larger world beyond Erin's Isle, and not everyone in it was friendly. Until then, they were content to live in Planet Ireland, dancing with the spirits of the earth.

And the Dance never stopped.

The End

****Translations****

Lá breithe sona, Michaél-Happy birthday, Michaél

Mo mhac-My son

Mo éan-My bird

Nóinín-Daisy

Mo ghrá-My love

Banríon mo-My queen


End file.
